Wanderlust

Chapter 11

"Are you sure your spells are working right?" asked Tasslehoff, squinting against the sunlight that streamed over Selana's shoulders. Sitting cross-legged, he looked back down to study his game of "Exes and Ohs" in the dirt. "I mean, we've asked all over town and at the castle, and no one has heard of this Delbridge guy." Using his finger, the kender traced the third "X" in a line, then drew through it once again, declaring himself the winner of the solitary game.

"l know my bracelet is somewhere inside this keep," Selana said stubbornly, standing above him, her arms folded across the torn and filthy front of her dark blue robe. Her face, beneath the loosely tied light-blue scarf, was scratched and tinged red from exposure to sun.

"My first spell indicated that Delbridge was going to Tantallon, and the one I just cast reveals indisputably that the bracelet is here." The sea elf's blue-green eyes took in the vast, rectangular keep made of foot-square blocks of gray, ribbed granite.

Seated on a stone watering trough, Tanis leaned back against the cold wall of the small pump house in the central courtyard and swung one leg indolently over the other. Dipping a cupped hand into the trough, he splashed his sweat-and grime-covered face with cool water and dried it on his sleeve. He closed his eyes and held his face up to the warmth of the late-afternoon sun.

Next to him on the ground, back against the wall, the old dwarf snored softly into his tipped hat. As he frequently reminded his half-elf friend, he was not as young as he used to be; even though his mind could not recall the night spent under the satyrs' charm spell, doing gods knew what, his body surely remembered. Flint's barrel-shaped body shuddered at the aches and pains.

Things had been a bit more strained between the small group in the eight or so hours since they had awakened among the wreckage of the satyr camp. If possible, the encounter had made the sea elf more headstrong and willful, more driven to retrieve her bracelet and return to the sea, than before.

Most humbling of all, the satyrs had taken nearly everything of value from everyone but Tas. The kender had been almost insulted that they'd overlooked his alabaster ink stopper and the tiny, engraved portrait of his parents, and they'd not taken even a single one of his maps. The sorry quartet barely had enough coinage left between them to purchase one serving of bubble and squeak, and none of them liked that bland cabbage-and-potato dish anyway.

"Well?"

Startled, Tanis popped one eye open. "Well, what?"

"Shouldn't someone go ask if this Delbridge person is in there?"

Tanis laughed. "It's not an alehouse, Selana," he said. "It's the home of the most influential person in this village, to which we are strangers. Perhaps our thief is his guest. You can't just march up and say 'hand over the chubby cheat in the green jacket.' "

"Why not?" asked Tas.

Only half-asleep and listening, Flint laughed himself awake.

"I'm not some little fool from the sea, Tanis Half-Elven," said Selana, glaring the dwarf into uncomfortable silence. "I'll simply tell them the truth, that I've come a long way to find a thief who stole a valuable bracelet of mine, and that I believe he is somewhere in the keep. Curston is a Knight of Solamnia, surely an honorable man. He'll listen with an open mind."

Tanis nodded, surprised to find that he agreed.

Tas jumped to his feet. "I'll come with you, Selana," he offered, having grown bored with winning "Exes and Ohs." Flint yanked him back to the ground.

"I don't like sending her to the door alone," he said, shaking his shaggy salt-and-pepper head, "but knowing the knighthood's distrust of anything not human, she'll have trouble enough without a kender, dwarf, or half-elf at her side. Cinch up your scarf, at least," he advised Selana, giving her hand a fatherly pat.

The sea elf frowned at the necessity, but nonetheless artfully rewrapped her dirty silk scarf about her head. She rehearsed a few lines as she passed through the arched portico and stepped up to the carved door. Taking the brass knocker ring firmly in hand, she slammed it again and again into the metal plate on the stout door.

Suddenly a wrinkled old face popped around the edge of the door, sporting an odd combination of ratty gray and corn-yellow hair. His eyes, slightly milked over with

early cataracts, were red-rimmed. Momentarily startled by the sea elf's unexpected countenance, he wedged himself between the massive door and the jam. Selana could see a black band around the thin biceps of his right arm.

"Excuse me, sir," she began as sweetly as she could manage. "My name is Selana, and I'm looking for a human named Delbridge Fid-"

"Never heard of him. Go away." The stoop-shouldered old servant moved to unwedge himself.

"Wait!" Selana cried. "It's very important that I find him, and I have good reason to believe he's in the keep. Perhaps I could speak with Lord Curston?" She batted her eyelids sweetly.

"Don't try that stuff on me, young lady," the old man said gruffly. "His Lordship isn't seeing anyone. Now, go away."

Selana placed her hand through the door and held onto the jam. "Perhaps he would make one small exception."

The man shook his head sadly, the bite seemingly knocked from him. "Not for Takhisis herself, I'm afraid. Young Rostrevor is missing, kidnapped two nights ago from his bedchamber, right under his father's nose. The keep is in a state, and I have strict orders not to disturb Lord Curston."

The servant looked newly agitated. "I'm a sad old man who's revealed more than he should. Leave us to our grief."

Selana shook her head mutely. "I'm-sorry, I didn't know," she managed to mumble at last, stumbling backward down the steps. Meeting her companions' questioning glances, the sea elf quickly relayed the news.

"A bit of bad luck and timing on our part," said Tanis.

"Is it?" Flint cut in quickly, scratching his beard in thought. "An opportunistic swindler arrives in town, the knight's son is kidnapped, and now there's no trace of either of them, but the bracelet is somewhere inside the keep. Coincidence?"

"Are you saying that you think the bumbling bard Gaesil described to us kidnapped the knight's son for some strange reason, then, for some equally unfathomable cause, left the bracelet behind?" Tanis asked, incredulous.

The dwarf ignored his friend's skepticism, tapping his whiskered chin. "I'm saying I have a hunch that unusual events traveling in pairs may be related, that's all."

Tanis frowned in dismay; the dwarf's hunches were often on the mark. If the bracelet was somehow tied up in the young man's disappearance, this whole escapade was going to be a lot more complicated than just finding Delbridge and shaking him down for the stolen jewelry.

"Well," said Selana, "we aren't going to find the bracelet out here in the courtyard."

"There's another sure thing," pointed out Tas, looking at the closed wooden door. "We aren't going to be invited in to look for it."

"If you're thinking about sneaking in," said Flint, "we'll have to wait for cover of darkness."

"That's what everyone thinks," began Tasslehoff, shaking his finger, "but I've had different experiences. I know you won't believe this, but several times during my travels I've looked up and found myself someplace other than where I'd thought I was. I'm thinking mostly about this magical ring that teleported me to the lair of some giants, but those were special circumstances.

"Anyway," he continued, dismissing the ring story with a wave of his fine-boned hand, "the funny thing is, if you look like you belong somewhere, people tend to think you do. Belong there, that is."

"You're suggesting we just boldly stroll in the front door?" squealed Flint in disbelief.

Tas shrugged, twirling his topknot nonchalantly. "If you prefer, we could find a side entrance. I still have my tools, so these locks would be a snap-" he snapped his fingers "-to open."

"Pick, you mean," sighed Tanis, running a hand wearily through his thick hair. "I hate to think we've sunk to breaking in-it puts us at Delbridge's level of thievery."

"What's this talk about thievery?" scoffed Tas. "Just because we let ourselves in?"

"It does not lower us!" agreed Selana, her nose wrinkling. "He stole something that did not belong to him. We're simply retrieving what is rightfully ours."

Tanis held up his hands in mock defense, then waved everyone ahead of him. "Lead the way, Tas."

Tasslehoff stepped brightly out of the pump house's shade, then paused with his hands on his hips, studying the keep. Flint fidgeted next to him, nervously clutching the head of his axe and glancing over his shoulder. Selana and Tanis stood nearby. Within seconds, Tas spotted what he wanted and was hiking briskly toward the keep with his friends bustling behind.

At the spot Tas had chosen, a smaller building abutted the keep. Where the two structures met, a deeply recessed doorway led into the tower. The kender strode straight into it and nearly disappeared in its shadows. The door was set back six or seven feet from the keep's outer wall, so all four travelers could easily crowd into its space.

Selana watched in fascination as Tas pulled an oilcloth bundle from his pouch. He extracted a bent wire and a handleless knife blade with deep notches filed into it. Within moments, a solid "thunk" told everyone that the lock was open.

"After you," said Tas, pushing the door open and stepping aside. The three others filed past into a narrow corridor temporarily lit by sunlight, then Tas gently closed the door.

After several moments of waiting for his eyes to adjust, Tas spoke up. "I can't see a blasted thing in here."

"We dare not strike a light," whispered Tanis, and Selana and Flint mumbled soft agreement.

"Sure, you dwarves and elves can see in the dark. What about me? It's pitch black in here."

"You'll just have to do the best you can," said Tanis. "Just hang on to the person ahead of you. I'll lead, then Selana, Tas, and Flint in the rear. What do you make of this place, Flint?"

The dwarf was peering ahead into the darkness, tuning his innate ability to see outlines in the dark. "I don't have much of an answer, Tanis. It looks like a blind passage: no doors or connecting hallways in sight, though what's farther ahead than about twenty feet I can't say. The whole thing seems to curve to the left, and it's mighty narrow."

Tanis agreed. "The only way to go is forward until we cross an intersection."

They moved slowly along the corridor, footsteps echoing softly in the damp air. Tas hobbled along with one hand on the rough stone wall, the other clutching a corner of Selana's scarf.

"Where should we look first?" whispered Tas to no one in particular. "Say, come to think of it, why don't you just cast that spell again, Selana? You know, the one that tells you where the bracelet is."

"It's not like a divining rod, Tasslehoff," the sea elf explained. "It gives me only vague directions, though they can be narrowed down by asking the right questions. But I can cast that spell only once a day, and I've already done my quota for today."

Bringing up the rear, Flint cleared his throat softly. "The old fellow at the gate said the knight's son had been kidnapped from his bedchambers. I say we look there. If Delbridge is responsible for the abduction, he may have dropped the bracelet in his haste to leave."

"The only problem with that suggestion," whispered Tanis, "is that this hallway seems to be spiraling sharply down, not up, and if we turn around we'll only end up back at the dead-end door we came in."

Flint, trying desperately to clomp quietly over the stone-block floor in his heavy leather, hobnailed boots, gave Tasslehoff's shoulder a shove. "Nice job, doorknob. You probably picked the only entrance in this castle that didn't lead up into the keep. Instead, we're tromping to gods know where down this endless corkscrew hall. Haven't even seen one doorway yet."

"We're inside, aren't we?" Tas shot back. "Besides, I didn't see you-"

Tanis clapped his hands over his pointed ears. "Enough!" he hissed, whirling on them. Selana skittered to the side. "Your bickering could make a half-elf's head split in two, not to mention alerting anyone within a hundred yards of our presence."

Dwarf and kender fell into a sheepish silence.

"Is that a door, ahead on the left?" asked Selana, pointing around the half-elf's shoulder.

Tanis squinted and saw a vague outline about twenty feet down the spiraling hallway. Taking a half-dozen quick steps, he reached out a hand to touch the wooden surface. He groped around the left side for a knob.

"Wait!" whispered Tasslehoff, elbowing his way past Selana to Tanis's side. "You never just walk up and rattle a strange door, especially not in a place like this. It could be trapped or rigged with an alarm or all kinds of things." The kender rifled through a pouch and quickly found what he needed, then set about the delicate task of searching for springs, wires, latches, balance points, and a host of other hazards his companions could barely guess at.

Tanis was glad for the darkness, because he was blushing with embarrassment. He had been so anxious to get somewhere, anywhere, that he'd forgotten his common sense. Only a rank amateur charged through a door under such foreboding circumstances.

"I think it's clean," pronounced Tas at last, "but it was locked. You never can be too careful. Why, once my mother's eldest brother's eldest boy, Old Uncle Latchlifter-actually, that would make him my cousin, wouldn't it? Why do you suppose we called him uncle, then? Anyway, Old Uncle Latchlifter-not Uncle Trapspringer, who's far too clever about such things-Uncle Latchlifter got careless picking a lock. Kablooey! Of course, you only have to do that sort of thing once, don't you?"

"Open the door, Tas," Tanis ordered in a monotone.

"Certainly." Tas pushed it open and stepped through. "Before he died, Old Uncle Latchlifter was a great one for giving advice. 'Never hit your mother with a shovel,' he used to tell me. 'It leaves a big impression on her mind.' " Moved by the memory, Tasslehoff shook his topknot. "Poor Uncle Latchlifter. He was as crazy as a bugbear, you know."

Beyond the doorway was a small room, not more than ten feet by fifteen, with a ceiling so low as to make even the dwarf feel he should duck his head. Another, smaller door was set into the far wall. The room was very nearly empty, with only several large urns and some scrap lumber piled neatly in one corner and a crudely built, closed box the size of a very large trunk on the floor in the corner near the other door.

Selana wrinkled her nose in distaste. "It smells like something died in here."

"Probably rats," said Tanis, his breath lingering before him in moist, white wisps.

Selena unconsciously moved a bit closer to the half-elf. "Bes schedal," she whispered, and a dim glow, its source undetectable, immediately filled the room with amber fog. The sea elf shivered under her thin cloak as she scanned the floor for movement. "We must be quite far underground."

Flint shuddered as well, though not from the cold or the thought of rodents. "This place gives me the willies," he confessed. "The bracelet's obviously not down here, so let's-"

"Great Reorx!"

Tanis, Flint, and Selana all jumped at Tasslehoff's curse. Spinning about, they saw him at the wooden box, his hand on the now half-opened lid.

"This is where that awful stench is coming from." Throwing his shoulder into the task, the kender was working at prying the lid the rest of the way off.

"Wait, Tas-" Tanis began, but his warning came too late.

Grunting with exertion, Tasslehoff flung the wooden cover back and looked into the box. His eyes went wide with wonder, then watered up from the smell, until he had to blink back tears to see.

"A body!" he coughed. "Boy, is it disgusting, all blue and puffy-looking. Come and take a look."

Flint and Tanis both glanced at Selana, who was holding her stomach and looking more pale than usual.

"Tas, shut the lid. We're getting out of here now" the half elf ordered, taking Selana by the arm and steering her back to the door.

Tas was peering intently at the body inside the box. "Something about this guy seems very familiar, Tanis," he muttered. "Short, fat, pug-nosed-"

Flint, who was about to severely chastise the kender, recognized the description, too. Taking a deep breath and holding it, he stepped to within three feet of the stinking box, looked in, and nodded firmly. "I'd bet my favorite axe that he's our man."

Despite her revulsion, Selena's ears perked up. "Someone check for the bracelet!"

Tas leaned into the box eagerly.

"Oh, no you don't," warned Flint in a low voice. He took the kender by the arm and escorted him back to the door through which they had entered the room. "You're not going to touch that bracelet again, if I have anything to say about it. And I do. You stay out of trouble here and stand watch with Selana." He gulped before adding, "Tanis and I will check out the stiff."

Flint and Tanis approached the box warily. They converged on opposite sides, both looking down distastefully.

"I'd been expecting all along that it would be us giving him a rough time when we finally met up, but he's turned the tables on us, eh, Tanis?"

Tanis smirked at his friend's dark humor. "He might not see it that way. Let's get this over with." Tanis crouched down on one knee and reached into the box, then withdrew his hand and wiped it furtively on his leather legging. Irritated, he stared at the hand as if it had betrayed him and reached again, this time grasping the shirt sleeve on the dead man's left arm. He tugged, but the hand was twisted and pinned under the body. He tugged harder and pulled it free. The arm bent forward stiffly at the shoulder. Using both hands, he slid the sleeve back from the wrist, but found nothing but puffy ashen flesh.

Flint, working on the right arm, had similar luck. "What do you suppose our boy died from?" he wondered. "No wounds on the body that I can see."

Flint's comments were cut off by a gasp from Tanis. He looked across the box and his blood nearly stopped in his veins.

The dead man's hand, rings sparkling on the gray fingers, was locked around Tanis's left forearm, his lifeless eyes wide open but unseeing. The body struggled into a sitting position and its pallid head lolled hideously on an overly long neck, as if it were now just a stretched and broken spring.

"Zombie!" the half-elf cried, desperately fumbling with his right hand for the dagger on his left hip. His fingers locked around the hilt and whisked it free, then brought it slashing down on Delbridge's cold, dead forearm, but the zombie seemed hardly to react as the blade sawed through its toughened hide.

Flint was there in a flash, chopping at the arm with his axe. Tanis stumbled away from the box as the zombie crashed back into it, minus its left hand. The quivering, severed hand of the dead man maintained its grip on the half-elf, but Tanis frantically pried up the ringed fingers one at a time with the blade of his dagger until the hand fell to the ground with a dull thud.

The zombie did not hesitate or even cry out, but continued struggling to grasp the edge of the box with its oozing stump.

Flint was ready. The hearty dwarf raised his axe high and swung it down again and again with the rhythm of a practiced woodcutter, mindless of the ichor that splattered with each blow, or even of Tanis standing next to him, slashing with his dagger. He knew that a zombie never veered from its single obsession until destroyed, turned back by a priest, or called off by its master.

"I think you can stop now, Flint," Tanis panted at his side, gripping the dwarf's shoulder. The undead creature, or what was left of it, twitched reflexively twice more, then stopped moving.

Ears ringing with the thunderous pounding of his own blood, Flint's gore-spattered hands clenched and unclenched the haft of his gruesome axe.

Selana and Tas stared with unabashed horror and shock. The room, still bathed in the soft amber light of the sea elf's spell, fell quiet between the ragged breaths of its occupants.

Almost clinically, Tasslehoff watched a little red mote dance in the rafters. It seemed to grow before his eyes, a weaving scarlet swirl containing infinite gradations of red, until it was at least as big as his head.

By now the others had noticed the spiraling, growing mote and knew that in a room that housed a zombie, it could not be good news.

"Run!" cried Tanis and Flint, almost in unison.

But before anyone could move, the air in the tiny room was rent with a flash of lightning that singed Flint's beard and sizzled Tas's topknot, leaving behind a cloud of choking, oily smoke.

Amongst the roiling clouds stood a hulking figure, well over six feet tall. Selana screamed at the sight of its horned head and dark, leathery wings. Then Tas was at her side, shouting, "It's a man, not a monster!" and she realized that the horns were a cap fashioned from a ram's skull and the wings were a cape that was supported beyond his shoulders by a frame.

An enormous scar ruined the right side of his face and sealed his eye socket. His remaining eye blazed with fury.

"Who have we here?" The magician focused his lone eye on the red-faced half-elf and dwarf standing over the hashed zombie, then on the wide-eyed kender and trembling woman standing on the far side of the catacomb. "What have you done to poor Omardicar the Omnipotent?"

His tone was light and mocking, but his left eye had an angry, hard glint as it returned to Tanis and Flint. In a flash, the wizard raised his arms and mumbled a single, indistinct word. A gigantic web materialized, extending from floor to ceiling, and wrapped itself around Flint and Tanis. Sticky goo dripped from the strands and adhered to the struggling victims. The more they twisted and fought to break free, the more the web tangled around them, until they could hardly move at all and finally collapsed to the floor.

Then, with practiced precision, the wizard snapped his attention to the two by the door. Again he muttered his magic word and the twisting strands appeared to engulf Tas and Selana. But instead of wrapping around them, the web splattered against an invisible barrier and slid to the floor, then glowed briefly and disappeared. Selana grinned grimly at her opponent.

"You surprise me, woman," the mage said in his imposing baritone, a mixed look of admiration and irritation on his hideous countenance, "but I won't be surprised twice."

Selana was already preparing her next spell, and surprise Balcombe is exactly what she did. The sea elf extended her hands with the fingers spread and shouted, "Dasen filinda!" A spray of colors burst from her fingers and splashed across the wizard, streaking round his body and spinning him in a half-circle. As he staggered back toward the wall, he tripped over a broken plank on the floor and sprawled into the dirt. The hideous ram's skull cap fell from the mage's head and rolled into a dark corner, and the cape's wing frame snapped. The dazzling colors continued flashing around his thrashing form as he struggled to remove the ruined cape.

"Don't mess with Selana, or she'll turn you into a bug!" crowed Tasslehoff, running up with the sea elf to untangle Tanis and Flint. But Balcombe's webs were tough and sticky. Tas yanked the dagger from his legging and sawed through enough strands to free Tanis's knife hand. As the elf worked to cut himself out, Tas switched to Flint.

"Hurry the spell won't last long," urged Selana. But the sticky strands of web wrapped around the blades of the knives and clung tightly to Tanis's and Flint's arms and legs.

"I was very lucky that my spells worked against him," she whispered to the half-elf. "Whoever he is, he's far more powerful than I am. I have no spells or herbal components left."

Even as she spoke, Balcombe's thumbless right fist thrust through the swirling colors into the air. A ring on one of his fingers glowed.

"Run!" shouted both Flint and Tanis in unison. Balcombe's hands traced patterns in the air as he mumbled, still lying on his back. Sparks crackled around him, and his hands grew red and hot.

Wrenching his dagger free from the clinging webs, Tasslehoff leaped forward and slashed at the wizard. But the blade turned aside inches from the mage's throat, as if knocked away by an invisible hand. Balcombe smiled an evil grin and reached with his left hand for Tas's arm, blue sparks, like miniature bolts of lightning, racing across his fingers.

Tas jumped up and away, narrowly avoiding the glowing hand. As he backed up, he bumped into the urn in the corner. With both hands he toppled it onto Balcombe, then kicked the mage stoutly in the stomach. The urn shattered when it touched Balcombe's hand, and Tas's kick slid away the same as the dagger had, but left the mage off balance.

Tanis screamed, "Run, Tas, and don't stop!" while Flint swore and kicked against the webs.

Acting on instinct, the kender grabbed Selana by the waist and pushed her toward the door. He paused for just a moment and looked back into the faintly lit room. Balcombe was shaking off the broken pottery and preparing a new spell. The kender looked to where Tanis and Flint still fought against the snarled web.

"Don't worry about us, you doorknob! Just get Selana to safety!"

Tas turned and raced down the dark hallway after Selana. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning from Balcombe's fists smashed into the wall just inside the corridor. With a horrendous crashing, it ricocheted down the narrow corridor after the fleeing pair. Tasslehoff glanced over his shoulder and saw the blazing blue light zigzagging toward him, tearing huge chunks from the wall wherever it alighted. He had nearly caught up to Selana by then and with an enormous leap, he tackled her to the cold floor. The magical bolt sizzled past them, showering them with debris from the walls. A moment later Tasslehoff was on his feet again and dragging Selana forward.

By the time Balcombe peered around the corner, there was nothing to see but rubble cluttering the narrow hallway floor. The crisp smell of ozone filtered with dust filled his nostrils, but he detected no trace of the distinctive odor of singed flesh.

With a snarl the raging mage turned back to his two captives in the web. "Your friends have escaped, so far. It would have been better for them if they'd died in the tunnel."

Balcombe withdrew a scroll from the recesses of his cloak. Breaking its wax seal and unrolling it, he began reading aloud, twisting his lips and tongue to form the unnatural, magical sounds. As he recited, wisps of smoke curled up from the scroll. Tanis could see brown splotches forming, as if some great heat was burning the parchment from the other side. Reaching the end of the spell, Balcombe released the scroll and let it flutter from his hands. Before it had fallen a foot, it burst into flames and was consumed, showering the floor with fine, powdery black ash. The room became very hot and still, and then a great burst of wind blew clouds of dust into Flint's and Tanis's faces and snapped Balcombe's cape. The

mage stood straight and undaunted, staring directly ahead.

The hair on the back of Tanis's neck stood up as a black spot appeared in the room, swirling and growing, forming monstrous shapes and then dissolving, only to reform into something larger and more hideous than before. When it reached full size, it stood eye to eye with Balcombe. It was a giant cat of some sort, a panther or cougar, but it was not real. To Tanis it seemed a thing of solid shadow, shifting and pulsing to some strange, internal rhythm.

Balcombe addressed the mysterious force. "A male kender and a female elf have displeased me. Kill them." He cast a sly, sideways glance toward his prisoners.

An ominous swishing sound resonated through the room and then faded up the tunnel as the shadow beast leaped after its prey.

Tas flung the door open at the end of the sloping hallway, and he and Selana fell out into the sheltered alcove, blinking at the bright sun.

"Where can we hide?" cried Selana, wiping dust and sweat from her face.

"We can't," Tas answered, "not yet anyway. That wizard is bound to be after us. We have to get far away from here before we go to ground. Let's hurry."

He tried pulling Selana back to her feet, but the elf maid resisted. "Where?"

"The marketplace. I can lose anybody in a market, especially if it's busy." A mighty jerk brought Selana to her feet, and then both were running toward the market.

That's when they heard the crash behind them. Looking back, they saw that the door they had just exited was torn off its hinges and skidding across the ground. It had

been raked by enormous claws that cracked and split the thick wood planks and even sliced through a reinforcing iron band. Then it burst from the shadow, a hulking magical phantom charging toward them in great bounds.

"What is it?"

"Trouble!" cried Tas, pushing the fear-frozen sea elf again. Driven by terror and grit, the kender and the princess raced at breakneck speed across the open ground to the crowded bazaar. When he braved a backward glance, Tas saw the black shape and the rising ribbon of dust that marked the monster's trail as it gained steadily.

They rounded a corner and ran straight into a farmer's wagon. It was loaded with spring onions and garlic bunches. Tas dropped to his knees and scrambled underneath, Selana following his lead.

Panting, Selana asked, "What is it? Has the wizard become that thing?"

"No point in that. My guess is that he conjured up some magical monster, like an invisible stalker, only you can see this thing as a shadow. Wizards pull them from another plane to do their bidding. They're horrid things, but short-lived. We've got to keep moving." Tas scanned the narrow avenues and quickly picked the best possible escape. As soon as Selana was up, they were off again.

Behind them, the onion wagon exploded. The beast had smashed into and slivered it, showering the area with onions and garlic. The screaming and shouting of the merchants was mixed with a terrifying roar from the beast, which paused momentarily in the wagon's wreckage to scatter the obstructing people.

The fugitives wasted no time. They twisted and turned their way through the market in a dizzying path, right, then left, then left again, until Selana had lost track of how long they'd been running. She could barely hear his directions for the pounding of her heart, when Tas began to weave a trail through the curving and twisting alleys.

When it seemed to Selana that her ribs would puncture her stomach and she would choke on her heart, Tas finally slowed, and then stopped in a narrow alley. "I think we've lost the shadow monster," he panted, resting his hands on his knees, "for now…"

Chest heaving so hard she couldn't speak, Selana looked at Tas, then finally managed to gasp, "You don't think it's expired?"

"No, we haven't been running half as long as it feels like. I suspect it's still around somewhere."

"What can a shadow do to us?" she asked.

"You're a spellcaster and you ask that?" He shook his head. "I respect anything conjured from another plane."

Groaning, Selana was about to sink to the ground when Tas grabbed her arm. "Do you smell that?" He looked at her intently. "Garlic and onions…"

Holding each other's gaze in fear, they both looked around. Suddenly a dark, swirling head peered around the corner at them. A clawed spectral hand slashed out, and Selana screamed. Once again they were fleeing, Tas holding onto Selana by her sleeve, the creature pounding on their trail.

Tas negotiated several turns, then looked back to see-the shadow monster, but not Selana! He still held a piece of her sleeve but she was not attached to it.

With the creature close on his tail, Tas dove through the rapidly scattering onlookers. Turning another corner, Tas tumbled over a pile of baskets. He sprawled across a rug spread with boots and slippers and slammed into a post. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs and left him gasping. Trying to shake off the pain, he scrambled to his feet. Peering across the pile of baskets was the shadow monster, black teeth glimmering beneath its black eyes. Behind him Tas was horrified to spot a dead end. The locals scrambled for safety and Tas heard bolts and bars slamming across the few doors and windows adjoining this cul-de-sac.

Heart pounding with adrenaline, Tas turned to face the monster. He made a quick but futile attempt to scrape the wads of magical webbing off the blade of his dagger onto a wooden post. Holding the gobby weapon in front of him, he awaited the attack.

The shadow monster crouched and hissed, snapping an inky tail. Then it leaped, covering the distance to where Tas stood in one bound. Even though he knew his reflexes were no match for the magical beast, Tas threw himself to the side, hoping to escape the brunt of the impact.

One swiping paw sent the kender crashing through a pile of hides. He rolled away and jumped to his feet, expecting to be slashed to ribbons, but no slash came. The shadowy beast throbbed and flickered and then dissolved into dozens of rapidly shrinking wisps of darkness.

Bruised and puffing, Tas threw his arms out and whooped. The wizard's spell had expired! The jubilant kender banged on doors and shutters with the pommel of his dagger, shouting, "I killed it! Hey! You can come out now!"

Dancing and strutting, he picked his way through the scattered merchandise back toward the main avenue. Slowly people emerged from their buildings.

Where was Selana? Tas wondered suddenly. Panting, pouches tangling on his hips, Tas climbed out of the narrow alley and onto a main street again. Moving at a steady trot, he spotted a baker's unattended street-vending cart. A long, pale loaf of crusty bread caught his eye. He snatched it up and tucked it under his arm like a ball as he continued running, ever watchful for Selana's indigo robe.

"A bit odd, leaving a cart of food like that," he muttered to himself, "but lucky for me. I've been a bit short of cash recently. I must remember to find and pay that baker when I get the chance."

Tas looked behind him, in case Selana had emerged from an alley in his wake. He saw no one but an old woman sorting out her disheveled produce. He rounded another corner.

Suddenly, desperate fingers seized him by the upper arm. He spun about, and more fingers closed over his mouth, then he was yanked into the shadows of a recessed entryway. Immediately Tasslehoff bit through the fingers and slammed his elbow into his attacker's stomach as he wrenched his arm away. Spinning about, he spread his legs in a defensive stance, loaf of bread raised and at the ready.

"Selana!"

Groaning and on her knees, the sea elf alternately clutched her aching abdomen and tried to squeeze off the trickle of blood from her lacerated fingers. Mortified, the kender pulled a cotton swatch from his pack and went to work binding her hand.

"Gods, Selana, I'm awfully sorry. I didn't know it was you," the kender muttered. "It's a very bad idea, sneaking up on a guy like that. I might have killed you!" He peered around her in the dark doorway, then helped her to stand upright again. "You'll be all right, won't you?"

The sea elf was obviously shaken, one arm still folded across her stomach. She stood up straight with great effort and nodded once. "I decided to run a different direction back there, since it could only follow one of us," she wheezed, breathing still difficult.

Tasslehoff crossed his arms and thrust his chin into the air. "I could have protected you," he said, miffed. "It's gone now anyway."

The sea elf's cornflower-blue scarf had fallen to her shoulders, and she shrugged it back over her pale hair wearily. "What do we do now?"

Not one to run willingly from a fight, the usually easygoing kender found himself growing angry at their predicament. He shook the long loaf of bread at Selana. "We left friends back in that keep. We can't turn our backs on Tanis and Flint. I say we should go right back in and get them." Tasslehoff stepped into the street, but Selana's hand snatched the strap of his shoulder pouch and dragged him back. "Let me go!" he hissed, deftly twisting away from her grip.

"Think, Tasslehoff!" Selana's eyes blazed, and for the first time Tas saw her as she must be in her own land- not confused and foolishly headstrong, but regal and commanding. He listened.

"Everyone in this castle must have seen us being chased by that monster," she said. "If you manage to make it to the keep without being noticed again, what will you say? That you were prowling around in the basement of the keep, found a zombie, and got chased away by a mage-their mage? All you'll manage is to get yourself arrested and that won't do anyone a lick of good, especially Tanis and Flint."

Tas jammed his hands into his armpits and shrugged his shoulders up around his ears. "We can't leave Tanis and Flint in there," he said darkly.

Selana glared at him. "Of course not." The sea elf frowned, nibbling on a nail as she thought. "Something really odd is going on at the keep, and I think we stumbled upon a small part of it. If only we could get back in and do a bit more exploring…"

"I wish I still had my magical teleporting ring," interjected Tasslehoff. "Then we could just pop in anywhere we wanted to. Have I told you about my teleporting ring?"

Of course he had. Tasslehoff eventually told everyone he met about that most mystical of devices. But the mention of it brought something to Selana's mind. Pursing her lips, she reached into the depths of her voluminous robe, dug around, and pulled out a long, thin vial made of smooth purple glass, a cloudy crystal stopper shaped like a sea fern in its mouth. She held it up in contemplation, then made an immediate decision. "We'll drink this!"